


Street Corner Santa

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fiction, Holidays, Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-20
Updated: 2007-12-20
Packaged: 2018-11-21 01:28:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11347107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived atThe Basement, which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address onThe Basement's collection profile.





	Street Corner Santa

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

Street Corner Santa

## Street Corner Santa

### by Flutesong

##### [Story Headers]

  


Title: Street Corner Santa 

Author: Flutesong 

E-mail: 

Website: http://www.hegalplace.com/flutesong/ 

Keywords: M/K Slash 

Spoilers: Sometime when Alex had 2 arms, AU all the way 

Rating: Adults Only 

Summary: Everything, some humor, and maybe the kitchen sink, adults only 

Warning: Adult Themes /Slash /Language 

December 2007 

* * *

Street Corner Santa 

Alex could hear the hand bells ringing on the main street from three blocks away. A Santa on every corner armed with a bell, a God Bless You and a kettle to collect whatever change you had in your pocket. Although he would never admit it, even under torture, Alex was superstitious. When he was eight, he'd faked putting the quarter that his mother had handed him to put into the red kettle and on the very next block; she had tripped and broken her hip. Without a dad or other relatives, Alex had been placed in child services and had spent the entire Christmas season in a group home with a mean caretaker and no presents. 

After that, his mother always seemed fragile and that scared him. Without her, he would be all alone and who knew what kind of place the police would put him in next time. He had tried to be the man in their little family, making sure that short paved path to the sidewalk was always shoveled and that her car had air in the tires and oil up to the right mark on the stick. He had even begun to eat oatmeal every day, although he hated it, because she said it would make him big and strong some day. He had haunted the secondhand shops for a better winter coat for her and since they let him pay a bit at a time, he had been able to get it for the following Christmas. He was never sure why they had made the dark and dangerous trek out of Czechoslovakia when he was four, in 1969, only that his mother, a scientist, had been targeted and sent to work in a factory. She had told him about the freedom, education, and good times he would have in the USA, but really, it hadn't been all that great. They lived in a small cold duplex with old and easily irritated neighbors. Everyone at school had made fun of his accent and to save himself from more harassment, he had insisted that he was Alex for Alexander and not Lexi ever again. Lexi in America was a girl's name and so was Sasha, he had made such a big deal of it that his mother had taken him to the immigration office and waited in lines all day to officially change his name. 

Armed with Alexander as a name and some new muscles from eating the oatmeal, by the time he was twelve, he was the unchallenged tough on the block and no one made fun of him anymore. Still, to please his mother, he had done well at school and brought home report cards that she displayed on the back of the front door along with his yearly school picture. 

She had been a pretty woman; tall, with pale skin, dark blue eyes and high cheek bones. Lots of men had tried to court her, but she always laughed them away, insisting that Alex was man enough for their family and she did not need anyone else. When he was fifteen and began to realize just how much his mother had given up, the duplex went up in flames when the senile old couple next door had gone to bed with a kettle of boiling water left on the stove. It had boiled dry and the fire had jumped to the cheap curtains and then the walls. He had been doing inventory at the store where he worked part-time, and came home much later than usual. Everything was gone, the building, the old couple and his mother. They had tried to make him believe that she died from the smoke and had not suffered from the flames, but he never bought it and fire remained a well hidden, but omnipresent fear in his life. 

He had eschewed the year he was supposed to be in child protection services and had convinced a neighbor, also a Czech refugee, to let him sleep on his couch in exchange for his salary from the store. He had graduated high school and any interest by the authorities at sixteen and left the neighbor's couch and stocking grocery shelves for a look at the bigger world. He had done okay, finding that college girls were more than happy to let him share their dorm beds and cafeteria food plans, and the college boys even better, because they rented cheap motel rooms and took off once the sex was over. He did honest work most of the time; he was a bike messenger, a gofer on construction crews, ran the blueprinting machines and copiers for an engineering firm, answered the phone for a variety of places and learned that he needed a college education for himself to get out of the basement and the insecurity of hit and miss beds to sleep in. 

He met a Russian girl when he was working at a fast food joint; her father was a professor at the local university and remembered his mother from her days at the Institute of Science in Prague. He was more than happy to help Alex get into college, sponsoring him to an organization of fellow refugees and coming up with some financial help. Alex often though that if he were a marrying man, he would have married the Professor's daughter out of sheer gratefulness. He repaid his debt by being a dedicated student and joining one of the most American of American institutions, the FBI. The professor, his daughter, her husband and new baby had been there for his academy graduation. They had gone to a fancy dinner afterwards and drank schnapps in his honor. It had been the happiest day of his life since his mother's death and he intended to be the best FBI agent in the history of the FBI. 

Alex put his hand in his pocket, the corner Santa was only a few steps away now and he had no intention of jinxing himself by not handing over some cash as he passed. 

* * *

Mulder frowned at the cacophony of Christmas music, bells and red-light specials, which were being blared from every direction at the mall. He knew he had waited too long to get the few holiday gifts on his short list of friends and family. A week ago, before Thanksgiving and Black Friday, he could have shopped in peace and been done in ten minutes; organic, beribboned boxes of powder and scent for his mother, a very cool pocket watch with flying angels on the back for Scully, various high tech doohickeys for the Gunmen and chocolates for everyone else. He hurriedly stepped aside when a large man in a Santa hat with a hand bell and red kettle rang the bell in his face. He had already put a dollar in a kettle at the entrance and that was enough for one day. Now, if they ever came up with a Hanukkah Harry and a menorah collection plate, maybe he would be more interested. Funny how all the PC crap went the window for Christmas, even assistant directors allowed their secretaries to put sentimental tripe on their desks and all over the walls. Skinner's office looked like an explosion of white puppies and kittens with big red bows around their necks or happily playing with wrapping and ribbons. 

Mulder went into the jewelers, it was marginally quieter in there, and Drummer Boy was being heralded, but softly. He had to wait for a young woman, with more holes in her ears than flesh, to pick matching red and green holiday earrings shaped like tiny presents, but the clerk, who had taken the girl's credit card and finished the transaction, seemed relieved to see him next; a man in a suit, tie and no visible piercings. Mulder pointed to the watch and chose a close-looped chain to go with it. The clerk packaged the gift in discreet white tissue paper with a slender gold ribbon and handed it to Mulder with a smile. Mulder was so relieved to have his task completed that he did not cringe when he signed the credit card receipt and he left the jewelers and the mall thinking he should invest in gold futures if the price of the chain was an indication of its value these days. 

He walked by several Good Will Santas along the way to the metro and never gave them a thought. He ignored the wailing saxophone player's open case at the bottom of the escalator as well. On the subway, people smiled and greeted each other with "Happy Holidays"; Mulder nodded, then ignored them all and immersed himself in the sports section of the Washington Post. 

Mulder stopped to eat at the Taco Bell on the corner of his homeward bound metro stop. He patted Scully's present, which was in his trench coat pocket, and felt that he had accomplished a very hard task and was glad it was over. The early dusk of late fall made the rest of his walk rather dark, but these were his streets and he walked them with only a minimal quotient of his usual paranoia and got back to Hegal Place in one piece. 

* * *

Alex slid a ten dollar bill into the red kettle, nodded absently to the "God Bless You" and headed for the Taco Bell on the next street. Mulder was at work and he had plenty of time to grab a bite to eat before he broke into Mulder's apartment and mounted the latest gadget the Smoker thought was needed to keep an eye on Mulder. Alex smiled grimly, he was actually rather impressed that Mulder's geeky friends came and swept for bugs every week or so and always found whatever new invention the Smoker had ordered installed. It had become a game of sorts, one-upmanship between a huge organization and a couple of nerds, but the nerds were winning. While he ate, he wondered what Mulder would make of the present he intended to leave at the apartment. He patted the pocket of his leather jacket and smiled when he felt the stiff outline of the small box. Fucking with Mulder's head was better than not fucking Mulder at all; he thought and took a huge bite out of his taco. 

Alex finished his ubiquitous meal and washed whatever sauce had stuck to his fingers, not that Mulder would be able to discern the aroma of Taco Bell in his apartment. Mulder's apartment always smelled like old sweet and sour pork and dust. He checked his small set of lock picking tools, patted his pocket once more and headed for Hegal Place. The day was already growing dim as the short afternoon waned. There would be snow tonight if the winds went slightly more to the east; otherwise it would be gloomy, gray and damp for another Washington day or two. 

Mulder's window was dark, not that Alex expected him to be home this early, but one never knew what Mulder would do. He was random with most issues in his life, save wanting to find his sister and hating Alex Krycek, even Scully got mixed signals, one day Mulder was hot to trot and the next day was a long intellectual discourse on the difference between incubuses and succubus's. Alex wondered how Scully hadn't torn out her hair by now, but she was a strange one, seemingly content to allow Mulder his eccentricities and to follow him almost anywhere. Maybe she simply had issues with sex or relationships, although she had been territorial when Alex had first appeared as a newbie. Whatever, he started to pay more attention to where he was walking. He'd found the simplest way into apartment buildings was through the front door. People tended to assume you had a good reason for being there and didn't bother to scrutinize you very carefully, if at all. 

By now, several tenants of the building recognized him as someone who knew the extremely riotous occupant of Apartment 42. They gave him weary looks as if they were asking him to put a stop to the loud and often messy disturbances from Mulder's apartment. He always shrugged sympathetically and kept walking. If asked, they would describe a youngish man in a leather jacket with short hair and circles under his eyes. Not that Mulder would ever ask for a description, he blamed Alex for everything automatically, as if Alex were the only Consortium operative to be on his tail day in and day out. 

Alex nodded to a chubby woman in old fashioned curlers and a pink and purple flowered housecoat standing at the fourth floor garbage chute. She touched her curlers self-consciously, so he smiled and she preened a little bit and went back to her apartment. The hallway was empty; Alex approached Number 42 softly and tried to hear if there was anyone there through the door. Absently, he fixed the number 2, which had fallen upside down. It needed a new screw because the hole had become worn and a little too big for the screw that was there. A bit of putty or even chewing gum could fix it, but he guessed Mulder didn't give a damn. 

He eased the door open with barely a squeak from his lock pick; Mulder's dead bolt was as loose as the number 2 so it gave way with a simple twist of a small bent spatula that Alex kept in his pack. Once inside, he closed the door silently and took a deep breath, when the first fist hit him in the belly and the second hit his nose, he realized he'd let his guard down too soon. Whatever Mulder was doing home and in the dark had obviously not hampered his ability to start a fight without warning. 

He really wasn't in the mood for Mulder's usual warm greeting, so he fought back and Mulder landed with a thump on his coffee table, scattering loose change, coffee cups and several files. The table groaned ominously and Mulder struggled off of it as quickly as he could. Both of them were on the floor, out of breath and eye to eye. "Merry Christmas," Alex wheezed, hoping the tacos would stay down and not end up adding to the mess on Mulder's floor. 

"Fuck you," Mulder gasped back, but he was too tired to form a fist and start the fight again. So, they sat there, breathing hard and wondering who was going to go for their gun first and end their eternal standoff. 

Alex reached into his coat and Mulder tensed, but Alex merely tossed a small wire ball at him. He caught it automatically and stared at it. It took him a moment to realize it was a bug and not a bomb. He stared at Alex and Alex put a finger over his lips in the age old sign for silence. He reached for the bug and Mulder tossed it back. Alex dropped it into a cup that was half full of old coffee, which had miraculously not spilled when it fell off the table. The wire ball hissed, shot off a few half-hearted sparks and went dead. 

"That's a cheap piece of crap," Mulder said almost conversationally. 

Alex nodded, "Standards are always falling these days, what with all the manufacturing jobs going to Indonesia and Tai Wan." 

Mulder stared at Alex as if he had never seen him before, "You made a joke, Krycek." He stated. 

Alex tried to look modest and Mulder laughed. Alex felt his heart lift, if Mulder could laugh, maybe someday he could forgive and some other day love. 

Alex reached into his coat again and was glad to see Mulder had not really tossed aside all caution when he tensed and went for his gun, but Alex tossed him the small box with the green and silver ribbons. Mulder stared at it, poked it with his gun and then the toe of his shoe. "Wha - what is this, Krycek?" 

"It's a Christmas present," Alex said, his eyes wide and guileless. 

Mulder sucked on his bottom lip, driving Alex almost out of his mind as well as his pants. "You open it," Mulder said at last. 

"And spoil all your fun?" Alex said facetiously. He got to his knees and then to his feet, he offered a hand up to Mulder, which was ignored. "It's always a pleasure, Mulder." Alex said with a small salute and quickly left the apartment. If Mulder changed his mind and wanted to shoot him, he was much less likely to do so in the hallway. 

Alex left the building via the rear entrance to the parking lot and the street. He chuckled to himself as he thought of what Mulder would do or think once he succumbed and opened the package. 

**END PART 1 T.B.C.**

Sorry, I never do WIPs, but I have been too ill to sit and work on the computer. I will post more as I have good moments, but it might not be finished by Xmas or New Year's Day - But I will finish it. 

Merry Holidays  
Flutesong 

  
 

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Series Name:   **Street Corner Santa**  
Title:   **Street Corner Santa**   
Author:  Flutesong   [email/website]   
Details:   **Series**  |  **NC-17**  |  **15k**  |  **12/20/07**   
Pairings:  Mulder/Krycek   
Category:  Humor, Story, Romance, AU (Alternate Universe), Holiday Fic   
  
  
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